


Boy Long Gone

by neurobeing



Series: Harry Potter Imagines [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Death, Afterlife, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Death, F/M, Fighting, Magical Accidents, Minor Original Character(s), Murder, Original Character Death(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Psychopath in Love, Takes Place Over 60 Years, ghost!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neurobeing/pseuds/neurobeing
Summary: The story of how the reader died in an accident at Hogwarts, and how that led to Tom Riddle spiraling into Voldemort.
Relationships: Tom Riddle | Voldemort/Reader, Tom Riddle/Reader, Voldemort/Reader
Series: Harry Potter Imagines [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913290
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70





	Boy Long Gone

It was all your fault. 

You bought Tom his diary in your sixth year as a one-year anniversary gift. He loved it.

You always knew something was different with Tom, maybe that was what made you intrigued by him in the first place.

He had an old soul. He was far more mature than everyone at Hogwarts. He was mysterious and intelligent, even the teachers loved him. He was handsome and charismatic, all the girls loved him. But his eyes always landed on you. 

You knew Tom was interested in the Dark Arts, but you never thought he would use Dark Magic against anyone. He was always kind to you. He never once hinted at racist ideals, not until seventh year.

You and a muggle-born boy named Adam were working on a potion together during Potions class. It was supposed to be a simple Pepperup Potion, but Adam added the wrong ingredient, causing it to explode. Fortunately for Adam, the explosion only singed his hair, but you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and the pressure of the explosion went straight to your lungs, killing you instantly.

You were the first student death at Hogwarts, ever. 

In death, you were given the option of the infinite unknown or roaming the Hogwarts halls for eternity. 

You chose to become a ghost. Your main priority, even in death, was to look after Tom. 

You floated above the halls, watching your classmates walk about. You watched Tom slowly spiral. 

You didn't notice at first. When you came back, there was a hubbub around you. Everyone heard of the accident, no one expected you to come back. 

Then, poof! You were a translucent figure immortalized in the Hogwarts robes you wore in your final Potions class. People were happy, of course, that their fellow classmate was dead, but not really gone.

Tom wasn’t.

To him, a ghost was lifeless. You as a ghost is a gossamer version of yourself, not his Y/n. He couldn’t love what was not really there. 

How he hated Adam. That stupid boy that made a stupid mistake. Adam was the person who took his Y/n from him, and he would not forgive him. Adam was a stupid mud-blood. If he had been pureblooded or half-blooded, then y/n would still be alive. If he had been pureblooded or half-blooded, then he would have been smart enough to put the right ingredient in the potion. 

You had been dead for only a month when you started noticing Tom changing. He wrote furiously in his diary. The same diary you gave him. He would draw these strange marks depicting snakes and skulls. He would never let you close enough to see. 

He started a group with his friends. They became a group of muggle-born haters. Racists and nazis. They talked about how they should purify the world but running it red with muggle-born blood. Of course, they would never use a word as nice as muggle-born.

“Tom, please, why are you acting like this?” You had cried out to him as he opened the Chamber of Secrets. 

“This is for you, y/n,” He’d said smoothly, coldly. “It’s always been for you.”

“This isn’t right. It wasn’t Adam’s fault. It was an accident. I’m still here,” You’d pleaded.

“You’re right, y/n, it wasn’t Adam’s fault.” For a split second, you’d thought you’d gotten through his cold exterior. “It’s the Ministries. They let those filthy Mudbloods into this school. I’ll take down the whole lot of them.”

“Tom,” You’d cried. “Please, don’t be like this.”

“I’ll clean the world for you, y/n. I promise.”

* * *

Months later, Myrtle’s body was discovered, the second death at Hogwarts.

* * *

The day of Tom’s graduation came with another death, this time came with a story of how Adam had fallen into the Black Lake and drowned.

That night, Tom left Hogwarts with all his fellow seventh years, for the final time. Or so you thought.

* * *

It was a decade of long hair, bellbottoms, and weed when you first heard of the Dark Lord. It was thirty years after your death when you heard the name Lord Voldemort for the first time. A man who split his soul after he heard the prophecy of a boy. 

Lord Voldemort had a band of pureblood fascists that helped him on his rise to power. They slaughtered hundreds of innocent muggle-borns ruthlessly. For some time, you hoped and prayed that Tom, who you had not seen in three decades, had changed paths and not joined the so-called Death Eaters.

Then, Dumbledore told you. 

“I did not know, y/n.” He’d said. “If I did, I would have stopped him.”

“If that stupid potion hadn’t blown up, maybe he wouldn't have been like this.”

* * *

You had met the Boy Who Lived in his first year. He was all chubby cheeks and messy hair. You couldn’t believe it was the boy who conquered the love of your life. 

It seemed that the second accepted that the man that once was Tom Riddle was dead, he came back to life.

Lord Voldemort is back! Students whispered in the halls. Some weren’t even brave enough to say his name. 

You watched young Harry Potter fight Voldemort for years upon years. You told him where the Chamber of Secrets was, and where he could find all the Horcruxes. 

Not once did Harry Potter ask you how you knew Tom Riddle so well. You supposed it was for the best.

Then, the second of May, 1998 came around. In history, it would be marked as The Battle of Hogwarts.

Children you watched grow up fell to their knees, meeting the same fate you had all those years ago. Hundreds died. Men, women, children. He was as merciless as they said. 

You heard his voice ring out, giving instructions to lead Harry Potter to his death, like it was radiating from the walls.

It was the first time you heard his voice in years. 

Then, in the early hours of the morning, you hovered in the courtyard, helping in whatever way a ghost could, when you heard it, not coming from all around you like it had before, but from behind you.

“My y/n.” 

You turned, and recognized him immediately.

He stared up at your hovering form, but it wasn’t really him. It was more like the remnants of the boy he once was. He was as white as snow, with read beady eyes. His face looked like a skull, no nose, his skin pulled taught over his cheekbones, making him look gaunt. He wore a robe with no shoes. 

He was so far past the boy you once loved. He was as horrifying as they said he was.

You wondered how you must look to him. You were forever seventeen. Forever in your Hogwarts uniform. You were still the gossamer ghost that floated above everyone else, literally. 

“Tom.”

“You know that name has no meaning to me anymore.” His voice was raspy, like an instrument being played untuned. 

It was painful to look at him. To see the skeleton of the man you had loved, so long ago. You stayed quiet and simply looked around the courtyard. 

There was fighting everywhere. Screaming, shouting. Curses and spells being flung back and forth. It was at the point where people simply stepped over the bodies of the deceased rather than try to help them. No one could mourn in a time like this.

You suspected Hogwarts would be more crowded with ghosts from here on out.

He broke the silence by saying: “This is for you. It’s always been for you.”

He stepped forward, reaching his hands out as if to touch you.

You floated backward, even though you knew his hands would go right through you.

“I never wanted any of this.”

“Of course you did. This is justice for your death.”

“No, Tom. This--” You waved your hands around you, “This is not an act of justice. This is not even an act of revenge. This is genocide.”

He reached out his hand once more, passing through you like you were air. 

“I knew you wouldn’t understand. You never did.”

“Tom, please.” You floated downwards, to be level with his height. You looked in his red eyes and almost caught a glimpse of the man long gone. “Stop this. Stop chasing your sick fantasy of justice. I’m dead. I’ve been dead for decades.”

“I will never give up on you, y/n. Not until the Wizarding World is pure and the Muggle World is destroyed.”

You knew then that he was too far gone. He had traded his soul for immortality. He never loved you, you realized. He did not even want to be reunited in death.

“Goodbye,” You said, floating back “Goodbye, My Lord.”

* * *

Two lines of people had congregated. The Death Eaters across from the Order of the Phoenix. In between them all was Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter, in one final dual.

You stood to the side as you heard Voldemort shout Avada Kedavra! and Harry shout Expelliarmus!

The Elder Wand flew high into the sky. In the moment it was beautiful, the sunrise behind the wand that flew above the burning Hogwarts. Harry Potter caught it in one hand.

Voldemort crumpled to the ground, killed by his own rebounding curse. 

There was a moment of silence as the sun rose above Hogwarts, momentarily blinding you. 

Then there were the cheers and screams. Everyone rushed towards Harry as the Death Eaters retreated.

You were the only one staring at Tom Riddle’s body. The shell of the man he once was. Finally contained in death.

You couldn't help but let a tear fall.


End file.
